Shishukunj

St. Josephs (Part 2)

A story in two parts by Tanya Gupta, Class IX B

[Part 2]

The next morning we all got up and got ready. Amanda called me aside.

‘Amanda, what is the matter? Is everything alright?’

‘No Emily, yesterday when I went to the matron, I saw Mrs. Rivers in that room which got burned. She had a candle in her hand and was laughing quietly. I think it has a connection with this incident.’

‘But what can we do?’

‘I think we should keep an eye on Mrs. Rivers and see whether she is the one who was behind all this.’

I agreed and went to my class. All this seemed really astonishing. I pondered and pondered. The whole day I did not pay attention towards my lessons and unfortunately Miss. Bronte caught me. At the end of the class she asked me to report to her in her study. I walked after her and went inside. She lectured me about how I need to pay attention in class, but I was least bothered. Suddenly, I caught sight of something unusual. On a small desk near the table, I could see a white gown, a wig and a candle kept beside it. The white gown was similar to the one which Mrs. Rivers often wore at night. Was Miss. Bronte the one who had plotted all this? But why would she do this? I asked myself. I apologized for my behaviour in the class and rushed out to find Amanda.

She was standing outside the class. I narrated everything to her and we decided to inform the police and leave further investigation on them. We told them everything and they instructed us not to tell this to anyone until the real culprit was found. The next day Miss. Bronte did not come to the class. I became more and more anxious to know what was going on. Then suddenly Mrs .Rivers called for me and Amanda. We went to her room and stood solemnly. She told us that it was Miss. Bronte who had plotted the fire. She wanted to become the head mistress and thought that by imitating Mrs. Rivers she would burn that room so that people blame her as an irresponsible headmistress.Mrs. Rivers appreciated us and commanded us not to tell this to anyone as Miss. Bronte had done various things for our school and revealing her name would spoil her reputation. We agreed.

Mrs. Rivers was proud of us and blessed us that one day we would surely lead St. Josephs to great heights.

Within a year, people had almost forgotten about this tragic incident. Amanda and I participated in several competitions and succeeded as well. St. Josephs is now counted amongst the top five schools in England.

Mrs. Rivers was right, we did bring St. Josephs to a great height.

[The end]

St. Josephs (Part 1)

A story in two parts by Tanya Gupta, Class IX B

Part 1

The wind was blowing violently. The trees were shaking vigorously. The night became colder as if it would freeze anything that came under it. I was going to my new school St. Josephs near Thornfield, a town in England. As I walked, I came across a tall building. It seemed as if it was very old with dull walls and crooked windows. I took up my luggage and went inside. A plump lady with silver rimmed spectacles was standing at the door.

“Hello Miss Emily Lockwood,” she said, “I am your head mistress Mrs. Michelle Rivers.”

I smiled at her and went inside. We passed through a narrow passage and ascended some stairs. Then finally we came to a corridor. She guided me towards a small door and knocked. The door opened and a short woman with curly hair and pale white skin appeared.

“Miss. Bronte, she is a new student and she will be in your dormitory. I hope that she adjusts well here in St. Josephs.”

Then she smiled and walked away. Miss. Bronte commanded me to get inside and closed the door. The room was quite large with a row of beds and cupboards in front of them.

I unpacked my luggage and went to sleep. The next morning I was woken up by a group of girls who stood around my bed.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty! It is already late,” said a tall girl. I felt sheepish and apologized for getting up late and introduced myself. The girls hardly bothered and went away. Suddenly, I saw a girl standing at a distance and staring me. She had blue eyes and thick golden hair. I went to her and asked, “Are you new too?”

“No, this is my second year,” came the reply.

I introduced myself and got ready. Then we went downstairs and had our breakfast. She detailed me about the timetable of the school and told me that the girl who had spoken badly to me was the leader of our dormitory and her name was Amanda. Then we proceeded towards our class. The class was a small room with ten small desks and a big table for the teacher. There was a huge window from where one could watch the beauty of the playground during boring lessons. I sat on the front bench.

A bell rang and Miss. Bronte came in. She was our science teacher. She introduced me to the class and started teaching.

I could understand all the lessons and I did well in my exams. That horrid Amanda and her group became polite and soon became my friends. We played, studied, ate and also went to the town at weekends. Everything was going on well but one night something strange happened.

That night we heard yells and screams. We could feel smoke coming out from somewhere. Everyone woke up in amazement. Miss. Bronte went out and ordered us to stay inside. We all sat anxiously. After a minute the door opened and Amanda came in. She had gone to the matron as she was not feeling well. She told us that there was a fire near Mrs. Rivers room and the whole room was in flames. There were important papers in that room related to St. Josephs and it seemed as if someone had purposely plotted to burn those papers. Police officers had arrived and they were questioning Mrs. Rivers. Just then Miss. Bronte arrived and told us to stay away from this matter and she switched off the lights so that we could sleep. That night none of us could sleep. We all had the same question in our mind,

Who could have set that room on fire?

[Click here to read part 2]

चिड़िया

निशिका जैन एवम् सात्विक गांधी, कक्षा ६ठी G, की स्वरचित कविताएँ

This and That and Some Titbits

By Tanya Rajani, Class IX B

You don’t have to worry about tricks and cheats. People fall into their own pits. Believe in the existence, the existence above. the existence of the Lord makes sure that no good remains unacknowledged, and no bad escapes punishment.

It is simplicity that builds beauty. Wisdom is the power to savour the life. As Emma Goldman once said ‘I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck’. Know the power of simplicity. Believe that joy comes from plainness and you’ll sooner live a happy life because when your journey of life is about to end, you won’t remember the posh cars or the luxurious couches that you own but you’ll rejoice the cup of tea that you had with your loved ones.

Examination

By Vinamra Chhabra, Class VIII E

During an examination,
We have to write about transpiration,
Or some complicated reaction.
It always gives us tension
And lots of frustration.
And in 3 hrs duration
I never get satisfaction,
With the answer that I mention,
For which I never get commendation
Seems I’ll stay in the same class for a long duration!

विदेश में रह रहे बेटे का माँ को लिखा भावपूर्ण पत्र

ध्रुव खुराना, कक्षा ११वीं F

आदरणीय माताजी,

चरण स्पर्श

मैं यहाँ ठीक हूँ | आशा करता हूँ कि आप भी वहाँ सकुशल होंगी | यहाँ हर पल आप ही की याद में गुज़र रहा है | क्या करूँ काम भी तो ज़रूरी है, नहीं तो कब का वापस घर लौट आता |

आप ही के आशीर्वाद से हर एक क्षण सफल हो सका है | मैं आज जो भी हूँ, जिस भी मुकाम पर हूँ, सब आप ही की देन है | आपकी वह बचपन की डांट और सीख ने मुझे सही राह पर चलना सिखाया | हर रात आप ही की तस्वीर देखता हूँ और वह पल याद आ जाते हैं जब आप की गोद में सर रख कर सोता था | मन में बस यही सवाल उठता है की क्या काम इतना ज़रूरी है की माँ से दूर रहना पड़ रहा है?

जब भी मैं आपसे फोन पर बात करता हूँ, एक अजीब सी दूरी महसूस होती है | आपने मुझे तौर-तरीकों की, दुनिया की इतनी समझ दी है कि आज में इस स्वार्थी दुनिया में भी लोगों का सामना कर पाता हूँ | मैं अपनी बचपन की यादों से ओत-प्रोत हो जाता हूँ | वह दिन याद आता है जब आप मुझे छोड़ने आईं थी | ओह! याद आते हैं वे दिन जब मैं खाना नहीं खाता था और आप मेरे पीछे-पीछे दौड़ा करती थीं | वह पल जब मैं आपके आँचल में खेलता था, वह ख़ुशी जब मैं आपकी उम्मीदों पर खरा उतरता था और आप सर पर हाथ फेरती थीं | वह समय जब मेरी गलती पर लोग हँसते थे पर आपने मुझे सहारा दिया |

आपके बिना यहाँ सूना-सूना लगता है | आज जब मैं देखता हूँ किसी माँ को अपने बच्चे को गोद में खिलाते हुए, तो आपकी याद आती है | आप सोच रही होंगी की मैं इतना भावुक क्यों हो रहा हूँ | पर माँ, जुदाई के बाद मुझे आपकी अहमियत समझ आ गयी है | आज भी मेरी नज़र आपको ढूंढती है, हर वास्तु में, हर जगह पे, हर कोने में, परन्तु मैं यह जानता हूँ कि आप सदैव मेरे साथ मेरे दिल में रहोगी| अपना दुःख व्यक्त करने के लिए दो पंक्तियाँ कहना चाहूँगा

महसूस करता हूँ जब मैं अकेला

करता हूँ, तुम्हारे सहारे की मांग

चाहता हूँ मेरे पास आ जाओ

सातों समंदर को उल्लांघ

आपका प्रिय पुत्र

ध्रुव

Dear Diary

By Vinisha Shrimal, Class XII A

Dear diary,

Every day I put on a happy face

I smile I laugh

Pretend everything is okay

When really I’m crying inside.

To everybody who asks about me

I say, “I am fine. Thank you.”

But, every time I’ve said this

I didn’t mean it even once.

It seemed like no one noticed

Maybe they don’t need an answer

They just ask for the sake of asking.

I look at my childhood photographs

Smiling and crying.

My smile, was angelic.

I could imagine the laughter

Sometimes hear it too,

Even the cry, was not from heart.

But there was something, I realized

One thing in common

I cried coz I wanted something

A stupid kid wanted a stupid toy

A stupid girl wanted a stupid answer.

I’ve tried to live up the laughter

I’ve tried poetry, down to novels, songs

And alas, this diary.

However, I can’t find an answer

To what is wrong, when nothing is right.

I crushed papers, walked on stones

Sung rather screamed on top of my voice

Assuming everybody cares,

But everybody is too busy to care.

My mind, wanders through thoughts

Of who might I be.

Who is this girl in the mirror?

Who am I?

I feel alone in this big-big world

I wish there had been someone to listen to me

Who wouldn’t judge me.

As for people,

There’s nobody to be believed

So they believe lies,

Same I do- sometimes

I just don’t know how to make it right.

I shall pray to god,

But I m convinced no-one is listening.

Yet, there is something I achieved

No one knows of tears that flowed (now dried)

No one knows of things I’m holding back (the forever secrets)

No one knows I am tired….

I must believe

I am still happy as I am

“Yes, I am fine.”

The Dilemma of Space Science

By Kaustav Dey, Class XI F

Many people believe that our country is wasting too much money and man-power into space missions and exploration and that it is useless to invest so much money when half the population of the country barely earns a living. They say that it would be much beneficial to invest the same money to eradicate poverty and educate the poor. What people tend to forget is, poverty can only be removed with the help of science and technology.

Space exploration develops a fascination and interest for science better than anything else. When our Mars orbiter reached Mars, the excitement and euphoria in our country was such that was never recorded before. The technology gained from a space mission has no parallel and it is the new technology that young India wants the most.

A fall to climb

By Aura Pandey, Class X A

She sat with half her body on the boulder staring at the mountains. How different the same scene had felt when she had last been here three years back! How every chilling gush of wind that went past her seemed to invite her towards the mountains and more eagerly each time. Mountains forever married to serenity had made her divorce with her own peace.

Today, the same sight couldn’t do any more than just dig up the old memories that she had learnt – if not to overcome, then just to put aside. Would she ever be able to forget that day? The day she didn’t just lose her legs, but also was robbed of her peace of mind and peace with her mother.

The memories of her first trekking experience with her mother were also still fresh in her mind. The first mountain they climbed together, the trekking shoes her mother gifted her on her birthday. Oh! How she wished for those days to return. But her crutches, hard against her hands always threw her back into reality. Living with her mother reminded her not only of the pleasant memories but also her harsh reality. This made it all the more difficult for her to face her disability. Not a single day had passed between her mother and her in peace since that day.

She never understood ‘why does that woman never give up on her?’ She had made it very clear that she didn’t wish to live with her, but she not only didn’t leave but also made her accompany her on all treks. Doesn’t she realize how it hurts her? She looked at herself again with disgust and desperation. She thought she would escape the limitation of the crutches that chained her spirit and flesh to a never-ending slavery and jump into the ad infinitum of the valley. She did not believe in the ‘healing power of the mountains’ – nonsense of her mother.

A non-living stone on a lifeless boulder – that’s what she is. No more. She moved dangerously close to the cliff and decided to plunge.

One last look ahe cast at their mountains… Oh! They did seem so alluring. They won’t in a moment. She would not take the pain any more. Off she jumped, letting herself fall into the chasm of death.

She felt the free fall but no fear of death. It was so thrilling that she thought she would want to repeat it over and over again. The thought itself was so powerful that she began looking for something to cling to in order to check her fall.

As the fall gained perilous speed, she seemed to become more alert and alive. Her shoulders rubbed against the stone wall of the cliff and moments later she found herself hanging from a crevice. Each cell in her was burning ecstatically. With great difficulty she climbed her way back… to find her mother waiting for her beside her crutches. She took her in her arms and said, “I knew you wouldn’t give up. I just knew you wouldn’t die, at least not by jumping off a cliff. I love you my darling. I believe in you.”

She too held on to her mother and let her tears wash away the pain of three years.

Be the miracle!

By Anshul Shrivastava, Class XI F

From a breathtaking football game to a perilous incident, the mutual noun that describes the unexpected recovery would be ‘a miracle’. Homo sapiens have a very interesting tendency to crave the elusive. To give something inexplicable a seemingly logical and legitimate explanation, they call it a miracle.

The religious texts, all of them, speak of this as the supreme authority of God. We have forgotten that the main substance, that the only power, which can perform these acts is the one within each one of us.

Getting up from the dark and leading the people of your country, with just a stick in your hand, is a miracle. Indeed, for every mother, her child is a miracle.

Miracles abound all around us, by our efforts we can synthesize miracles. The required ingredients are pure determination, high hopes, diligence and belief.

Don’t wait for the miracle to happen. Be the change! Optimism is a faith. To hear your personal calling, you require compassion for yourself and for others. Let go of guilt and fear. It’s only when it’s dark enough, you can see the stars!

Category: Blog

St. Josephs (Part 2)

A story in two parts by Tanya Gupta, Class IX B

St. Josephs (Part 1)

A story in two parts by Tanya Gupta, Class IX B

चिड़िया

निशिका जैन एवम् सात्विक गांधी, कक्षा ६ठी G, की स्वरचित कविताएँ

This and That and Some Titbits

By Tanya Rajani, Class IX B

Examination

By Vinamra Chhabra, Class VIII E

विदेश में रह रहे बेटे का माँ को लिखा भावपूर्ण पत्र

ध्रुव खुराना, कक्षा ११वीं F

Dear Diary

By Vinisha Shrimal, Class XII A

The Dilemma of Space Science

By Kaustav Dey, Class XI F

A fall to climb

By Aura Pandey, Class X A

Be the miracle!

By Anshul Shrivastava, Class XI F

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